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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28367109">put him on his knees, give him something to believe in</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/feralpixiedreamgirl/pseuds/feralpixiedreamgirl'>feralpixiedreamgirl</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Malcolm in the Middle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blow Jobs, Brother/Brother Incest, Face-Fucking, M/M, Malcolm is a total slut but we don't judge, Semi-Public Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 23:01:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,658</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28367109</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/feralpixiedreamgirl/pseuds/feralpixiedreamgirl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A friendly nonnie has supplied me with the following prompt:</p><p> </p><p>  <i> You know what would make me love you forever? I f you wrote a fic  where  Reese finds out that Malcolm has gained a "reputation" and then  finds  him like giving a blow job to some random guy from school.  Picture it,  the scene of the confrontation Reese unreasonably angry and   overprotective determined to keep his brother away from every single   male for all eternity an THEN, he starts to question if hes doing this   out of brotherly concern </i></p><p> </p><p>So i tried my best to fill it to shame the lord again, on another sunday.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Malcolm/Reese (Malcolm in the Middle)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>104</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>put him on his knees, give him something to believe in</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s all just rumors of course. Reese figures there is absolutely nothing to it. The first time he hears about it, about what Malcolm is supposedly been doing during lunch break (after school, when he slips out before dinner, …) he actually laughs out loud because it sound so ridiculous to him. Then he punches the guy in the face.</p><p> </p><p>But the whispering doesn’t stop. Reese can hear it following Malcolm around, a buzzing sound that swells behind Malcolm’s back as he walks by like a mean-spirited La Ola Wave.</p><p> </p><p>“I heard he sucked off Randy Carrell behind the bleachers.”</p><p> </p><p>“Chris Horton told me himself Malcolm offered to blow him when they had detention together.”</p><p> </p><p>“Clyde bragged he made Malcolm deepthroat his dick!”</p><p>“The guy with the weird nose and the bowl cut?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“Why does he think that’s some kind of accomplishment? Malcolm is on his knees before you even have your zipper open!”</p><p> </p><p>They elbow each other in the rips, share scandalized laughter. They turn their noses up even when their cheeks are flushed pink with excitement as they murmur amongst each other.</p><p> </p><p>And Reese is feeling sick to his stomach. He had tried to make them stop in the beginning by giving everyone that dared to speak about his little brother like that (like he’s- like he’s some kind of slut) in Reese’s proximity the same way he did the first guy: aim for the nose, hope for some blood, clap yourself on the back if you manage to break something. But he soon had to realize that his fists are no match for gossip this juicy.</p><p> </p><p>Malcolm himself doesn’t seem to be bothered though. There is simply no way he’s not aware of the situation, but he holds his head up high, not even a stutter in his step. He spends the breaks with Stevie, like he always does, takes care of school work, like he always does, and is just as much of an obnoxious arrogant asshole as he’s always been.</p><p> </p><p>Doesn’t he know how disgusting this is? The way they say he’s debasing himself for any dude who asks him to? In public? His mouth probably comically wide, gravel scraping his knees as he sucks, his nose buried inside wiry pubic hair? He’s probably good at it, too. Probably let’s them jizz down their throat. Probably swallows.</p><p> </p><p>Reese is hot with anger when he thinks about it too long. His hands are clenched into tight fists, a pattern of crescent moons across his palms after he forces himself to relax.</p><p> </p><p>He has to make it stop. It’s his duty as a big brother to take care of Malcolm. So he decides to save him from himself. The idea to talk to Malcolm about it doesn’t even enter his mind.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>He never thought of himself as being particularly good at sneaking around. He has a general idea of the limitations of his intelligence, and the confidence he feels when he’s implementing a new scheme tends to be proven delusive promptly. He’s not an idiot about being an idiot. In that way Malcolm’s level of sluttyness is actually helpful because Reese doesn’t have to follow him around for long before he taps Tim (Tom?) from Reese’s chemistry class on one broad shoulder and then stands up on his tiptoes to whisper something in his ear. Tim-Tom grins, says something back and then follows him outside. It’s the middle of the day and Reese is actually kind of shocked. The last days should have prepared him for this, for how little Malcolm seems to care about the other students knowing, but seeing it for himself is overwhelming. He is hyperaware how his ears are burning and his heart is pounding in his chest as he trails after them.</p><p> </p><p>Malcolm leads the older boy past the benches and half-rotten plants at the back of the school, along the trail next to the bike rack and inside the janitor’s closet that is, unwisely, always open (Reese has pilfered a lot of tools from the room). The boys shut the door behind them and there is no window so all Reese can do is creep close and then sink down on the floor when he hears the telltale sounds of shuffling clothes, one uneasy hand pressed against his chest. He sits there frozen despite the way he burns and listens to the shelf rattling, to Tim-Toms rough voice mutate into moans.</p><p> </p><p>It’s only when he realizes with horror how tight his jeans have gotten that he snaps out of it and remembers that he’s here to teach a lesson not to … listen to his baby brother give some dude a blow job in the janitor’s closet.</p><p> </p><p>With bravado he does not really feel and a semi he hopes they won’t notice he throws the door open. It creaks uncomfortably on its hinges and hits the wall with a bang. Reese underlines the cacophony with a loud “Aha!” and a pointed finger.</p><p> </p><p>Malcolm let’s Tim-Tom’s hard-on slip from his mouth before he turns to look at Reese, horrified. He still holds the erection in his hand, covered in a film of saliva and pre-cum, an inch away from his cheek. His lips are slightly swollen and wet, forming an alarmed O. (Reese’s brain disturbs him with the information that the opening is just about the perfect size for a dick to be thrust right back into it again.)</p><p> </p><p>For the longest second of Reese’s life he and Malcolm stare at each other, caught in a moment of unmeasurable embarrassment, underlined in its absurdity by Reese’s finger still being accusingly in the air. Then Tim-Tom draws a ragged breath and Reese’s gaze flickers to where he stands, both hands gripping the shelf behind him, pants and underwear like a shackle by his ankles.</p><p> </p><p>“You!” Reese yells, “Whatever your name is! Get the fuck away from my brother!”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s Bartholomew,” Not-Tim-Tom answers, voice surprisingly steady but clearly dumbfounded.</p><p> </p><p>“What the hell kind of name is that?!”</p><p> </p><p>“My grandfather’s.”</p><p> </p><p>Malcolm interrupts them: “Shut up, Bart.”</p><p> </p><p>"I told you not call me that.”</p><p> </p><p>Reese has had enough of whatever-his-name-is, so he struts over to him, carefully leaning sideways to avoid the dick, and punches him so hard he’s head smacks into the shelf.</p><p> </p><p>Blood gushes from his nose and trickles down on Reese’s hand as Reese seizes him by the front of his ugly sweater. He tells him: “No one gives a fuck what you want to be called, faggot.” He flicks Bart-Bartholomew’s nose with his free hand, then whispers into the boy’s ear in a deliberate imitation of Malcolm’s move: “Now, if you ever come near my brother again I will fucking kill you. You remember what happened to Steven Cook? Beginning of the year? I will do that. But I will add paint thinner.”</p><p> </p><p>Bartholomew whimpers. It’s a gesture of submissiveness Reese can appreciate. He let’s go of him and Bart immediately takes off, as fast as he can with his pants obstructing him.</p><p> </p><p>When Reese turns around Malcolm has finally closed his mouth. It’s an angry line now actually, mirrored by the harsh lines in his forehead.</p><p> </p><p>“I- what the- why did you-” Reese knows Malcolm’s inability to express himself stems from anger not from a lack of vocabulary or intelligence but he enjoys it anyway. Most of the time Malcolm has way too much to say and way too much words to say it with, for his taste.</p><p> </p><p>Malcolm gets up from the grimy floor to meet Reese at eye level, or as close to it as he’s able to. Reese has underestimated his rage and is not prepared for the way he brutally pushes him into the abused shelf.</p><p> </p><p>“Who do you think you are?” He presses out between clenched teeth.</p><p> </p><p>“What do <em>you</em> think you are doing?” Reese forces Malcolm off of him no big deal and then shoves him a step backwards for good measure.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s none of your fucking business.” Malcolm’s voice is shaking. He crosses his arms in front of his chest to compensate for it, but Reese is not impressed.</p><p> </p><p>“You’ve been acting like a total whore.”</p><p> </p><p>Malcolm flinches like he’s been slapped. “No one’s been paying me,” he retorts, then laughs. It’s an ugly noise that grinds on Reese’s nerves. Makes him feel like somewhere, somehow he has made a mistake. Again.</p><p> </p><p>“Look”, he starts, but Malcolm just keeps on talking: “I love doing it and they love how I suck cock. I know how to take it real deep, too, like, so deep it sometimes feels like they stuff it right into my trachea. Takes practice to get the rhythm right so you get enough oxygen, even if you’re not actively trying to choke on it. They call it a job for a reason.”</p><p> </p><p>Like with everything else in his life Malcolm appears to have a need to be the best at this, too. Reese feels like he did after he sneaked into the party one of his classmate’s threw, another one he hadn’t been invited too. Four shots in, hazy and feverish and no idea how to find his way home.</p><p> </p><p>“They go fucking wild when I hum on it. Makes them cum so fast. Why are you here?” Malcolm has taken back the space Reese had stolen from him.</p><p> </p><p>“I-,” he stutters, unsure if he’s even understanding the question.</p><p> </p><p>“No, really, why are you here? Why did you follow me? What do you want from me?” Malcolm accentuates his questions by poking Reese in the chest. The shame and insecurity is gone.</p><p> </p><p>“I wanted to prot-”</p><p> </p><p>“Protect me?” Another laugh, exaggerated and mean. “From what? I might just found a real talent of mine.”</p><p> </p><p>Reese’s dick twitches, his stomach rumbles with nausea.</p><p> </p><p>“Want me to show you?”</p><p> </p><p>Reese’s answer is a squeak, but Malcolm sinks to his knees anyway. He eagerly makes work of Reese’s pants, let’s his fully hard cock pop out of Reese’s underwear so it almost slaps him in the face. Malcolm looks up at him with brows raised high.</p><p> </p><p>“To be honest with you, Reese, this doesn’t exactly indicate that you’ve been worried about my virtue.” He licks his lips, but before he can put his mouth on it, Reese violently nudges him, hard, making him lose his balance and fall over on his back.</p><p> </p><p>“Coward,” Malcolm hisses from where he lays beneath him, propped up on his elbows. He’s hard, too, Reese realizes, the bulge clearly visible in Malcolm’s ill-fitting pants. He inherited those from Reese, who had filled all of the pockets with chocolate before handing them over.</p><p> </p><p>He’s not good about thinking stuff through, so he goes to where his dick points him, sits down on Malcolm’s chest, who’s arms give out instantly, and growls at him to shut up.</p><p> </p><p>And Malcolm does. He has to crane his neck to take in the first inch, but, like always, he applies himself. He suckles the head like a lollipop, forcing a loud whine from Reese’s throat as his eyes flutter shut. The heat of Malcolm’s mouth soon infects Reese’s whole body, scorching him from the inside as it burns trough his veins. When Malcolm uses his tongue to flick at the slit Reese keels over, only just managing to catch himself on his hands and accidentally shoving his cock deeper inside. He can feel Malcolm gagging around him, punching a breath out of Reese that transforms into a strangled moan before he hastily moves backwards and straightens up, spluttering apologies.</p><p> </p><p>When he looks down to check up on Malcolm, his lips are stretched wide around Reese’s cock, the skin around his mouth rosy and moist. As they make eye-contact Reese’s blood soars in his ears, treacherously purrs that he should jerk forward again and just take what he needs. Like Malcolm can hear it, too, he splays one hand on each side of Reese’s hips, hikes up his shirt so that they are skin on skin and gently coaxes him to get up on his knees.</p><p> </p><p>Reese can feel Malcolm’s breath in his pubic hair, steady exhalations that have Malcolm’s face crunched up in concentration. Reese catches himself at the thought that he looks cute, but then his brain short-circuits as his cock touches the back of Malcolm’s throat. He keeps still briefly, has to focus on his breathing now, too, while he gives his brain a moment to catch up and Malcolm time to adjust.</p><p> </p><p>It doesn’t take long for Malcolm to get impatient. He digs his nails in as he tries to get Reese to move, grumbles around his mouthful in a way that simultaneously tickles and makes Reese feel like he’s melting. Reese obliges, drags his cock from his little brother’s mouth slowly, past his soft lips, savors the way Malcolm looks up at him with moist eyes, pupils blown, returning his gaze with intent and intensity. When he rolls his hips forward Malcolm hollows his cheeks for him, swirls his tongue around his cock, sucks on it like he’s never done anything else. After that things start to blur. Reese picks up the pace, finds a rhythm that matches his throbbing pulse, while Malcolm let’s Reese help himself to everything he has to offer.</p><p> </p><p>There is nothing coherent about the mixture of curse words and groans that fall from Reese’s mouth as he’s getting close. He loses the tempo, gasping, hips snapping forward helplessly. He sinks inside one last time, Malcolm desperately gulping, running out of air as Reese’s vision whites out and he ejaculates down his throat.</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>He’s light-headed and shaky, but lucid enough to pull out and give Malcolm a windpipe unobstructed by dick. He settles back down on Malcolm’s chest, head turned upwards, trying to catch his breath.</p><p> </p><p>Malcolm draws Reese’s attention by coughing. Reese considers him and his worn out mouth, the half-dried tear streaks, the snot Malcolm absent-mindedly wipes at.</p><p> </p><p>“Ouch,” Malcolm says.</p><p> </p><p>“Beautiful” is all Reese can think.</p><p> </p><p>Malcolm palpates his throat. "This is gonna hurt like a motherfucker.” He sounds rough, too.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>Malcolm’s eyes grow wide in surprise. “Okay.”</p><p> </p><p>On a whim he traces Malcolm’s lips with his forefinger and Malcolm doesn’t protest. “You’ve got a good mouth.”</p><p> </p><p>“I told you I was excellent at sucking dick. Although there is not much finesse needed to get your face-fucked.”</p><p> </p><p>The cool air is starting to feel uncomfortable on Reese’s damp skin. Not one to worry much about stains or hygiene he puts his cock back into his underwear as is, then pulls up the zipper of his jeans. He refuses to get up from Malcolm’s chest though unless asked. His legs are all gooey.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve never let anyone do that before.”</p><p> </p><p>“Huh?” Reese is confused. “I literally found you on the floor gobbling dick, what are you talking about?”</p><p> </p><p>Malcolm rolls his eyes. “Let anyone just fuck my face.”</p><p> </p><p><em>Oh. </em>“Why not?”</p><p> </p><p>“People are assholes.” Malcolm shrugs like he’s mildly annoyed at having to state the obvious.</p><p> </p><p>Reese scoffs. “And I’m not?”</p><p> </p><p>Another shrug. “You’re Reese.” He rubs at the crusty residue by his eyes and lips, then continues: “Now get off of me, break’s almost over and I have quiz after this.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re gonna go to class looking like this?” Reese asks, disbelieving. He still gets up though, makes a show out of brushing off his clothes like he actually cares if they are dirty or not.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not like it’s a secret.” Malcolm stands up to, too, ruffles through his slightly sweaty hair till it’s a total mess. “How <em>do </em>I look?”</p><p> </p><p>“Utterly fucked out,” Reese rasps.</p><p> </p><p>Malcolm grins, then gestures for Reese to follow him outside. Reese can’t see his face only his back when Malcolm tells him quietly: “Next time you do it, you should grab my hair to hold me still. I’m sure, I could be even better for you that way, easy. Just how you like.”</p>
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